Now that he has a point to prove, Rokuro will walk taller, with longer steps, and a graceful bearing that would make the most favoured of courtesans weep. The shoes are staying on all night if it kills him.

"Shoes are not necessary to function. If need be I can remove them." Coolly, as they cross the threshold into the bar. Rokuro wouldn't call himself stubborn. He is simply determined. His comrades, on the other hand... well, they know better than to say anything within Rokuro's earshot if they don't want to go deaf.

He turns his head to glance around the room, taking in the crowd. It's larger and rowdier than in a brothel, but somehow less obnoxious than the pool. Is it because his Master isn't here that he can almost see the value in such a place?

"See. There are many people wearing these shoes, and I do believe I wear them best."